


Green Eyed Monster

by NeonKnight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dramatic Dean Winchester, Eventual Romance, Ficlet, Flashbacks, Gay Panic, Help, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Going to Hell, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, My First Smut, Pansexual Sam Winchester, Past Underage Sex, Post-Season/Series 05, Public Hand Jobs, Supportive Sam Winchester, Supportive Sibling Dean Winchester, Timeline What Timeline, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 03:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonKnight/pseuds/NeonKnight
Summary: Running into an old acquaintance in a small town bar reignites old feelings that Dean has repressed for years. Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen.





	Green Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my very first fic in the Supernatural fandom. *sweats* I was really scared to post this but I hope you like it!
> 
> Note: This first chapter is mostly a flashback. It depicts a past sexual encounter between two teenage boys. If that's not your thing, you'll see when it's coming and you can skip over it, or you don't have to read this at all.
> 
> This is my first time writing anything even close to smut so sorry in advance.
> 
> Also a big thank you to YummyFoods for betaing this for me! Love you, bb!

The first guy Dean had ever been attracted to was Casey Jones. He was a little less than a year older than Dean, and the only son of one of John's hunter buddies. He was an inch or so taller, with thick dark hair, golden skin, and hypnotic eyes that were the color of an exceptionally good whiskey. Those eyes drew sixteen year old Dean in like a fucking magnet the moment they locked with his in that seedy bar outside of a small town in Nebraska.

 

Not only was Casey unfairly attractive, but he was funny as hell, smart, had a great personality, and had excellent taste in music. The fact that he was all eyes for the Impala solidified Dean's crush. Anyone who appreciated Baby for the beauty she was got at least 300 times more attractive in Dean's book.

 

He and John had been called to help with a particularly nasty rugaru. Casey's dad made it clear that he didn't really _need_ them for the hunt, but he called for backup just in case. Casey was a little inexperienced, so John and Dean's presence was more like insurance that the amber eyed teenager would survive the night. They left Sammy at the motel for the same reason. The kid was only 12 years old. He wasn't ready to take on a rugaru quite yet.

 

The hunt went without a hitch with four people on the job, so John and Casey's dad decided to take the boys to the bar to celebrate. Little Sammy gave their dad quite the impressive bitch face when he learned where they were going, but knew better than to actually say anything about it.

 

The night went on smoothly as their dads got progressively more smashed, and Casey told Dean to meet him in the bathroom after knocking back a few shots of his own. He reluctantly followed after making sure that the older hunters were adequately distracted with trying to one up each other with hunting stories.

 

As soon as he entered the admittedly disgusting men's bathroom, Casey pounced. He slammed Dean against the wall and kissed him like his life depended on it. Casey tasted like whiskey and cigarettes when he forced his tongue in Dean's shocked mouth. It was nothing like the girls he had kissed before. They had all tasted like whatever flavored lip gloss they decided to wear that day, and they definitely weren't this _rough_ with him.

 

Dean tried to push Casey off of him at first, unused to being kissed by other guys. He was overwhelmed, and needed a second to think. Casey didn't relent. Instead he wedged his knee between Dean's legs, and pressed more of his body against him, using his superior strength and weight to his advantage.

 

Dean definitely liked the manhandling, because he had popped a semi from the treatment.

 

“What are you doing?” Dean mumbled once Casey finally let him breathe.

 

“Kissing you?” Casey's voice had gone all low and husky. God, Dean was screwed. “Should I stop?”

 

Dean pondered that for a second. “No. Keep going.”

 

Casey's wicked smirk at Dean's consent almost made him spontaneously combust. He slipped a hand behind Dean's head, angling it before diving back in. Dean couldn't stop the little whimper when Casey slipped his tongue back between Dean's teeth. This kiss was less hurried than the previous, but didn't lack any of the intensity. Their lips and tongues moved together seamlessly, and Dean was lost to the _rightness_ of kissing another boy.

 

He found that he _liked_ the hard chest pressed flush against his instead of the soft breasts that he was used to. Lines of taut muscle replaced soft feminine curves, and Dean would be lying if he said that he wasn't equally attracted to both. The soft scratch of stubble against his face was strange, but he enjoyed the sensation.

 

Dean didn't dare move his hands from their position against the wall even though Casey was no longer pinning them. He was frozen to the spot. Casey's knee ground against Dean's crotch, bringing it to full hardness in no time flat. His cheeks burned at the thought of Casey touching him there. As if he could read Dean's mind, he ran his other hand down Dean's chest, going even lower before cupping his erection through his jeans. Dean gasped and jerked his hips into the hand.

 

The combination of his hormones going crazy and the shots of Jack he had taken were making his head swim.

 

“You ever done this before, Dean?” Casey wondered breathlessly.

 

It took Dean a second for his melted puddle of goo brain to catch up. “Not with a guy,” he admitted.

 

Casey's answering smile was a little too bright for the dingy bar bathroom. He looked like he had won the lottery. He moved his lips to Dean's neck, sucking and biting the skin there as he rubbed Dean's aching cock through his pants. Embarrassingly enough, Dean couldn't stop the soft little cries that ripped from his throat. He had gotten one other hand job before from a pretty brunette whose name he honestly couldn't remember. She of course had had no idea what she was doing. Casey, on the other hand, despite not being much older than Dean, knew _exactly_ what to do to get him going. _Probably from having a dick._

 

Casey had slipped his hand into the waistband of Dean's boxers when John stumbled into the bathroom, eyes zeroing in on the boy with his hand in his son's pants. Even while drunk, John was a force to be reckoned with. He ripped Casey away from Dean, sending him straight to the grimy floor.

 

“We're leaving, Dean.” John could barely contain the anger in his tone. He was nearly vibrating from his seething, and it terrified the living daylights out of Dean. He had never seen his father this furious before.

 

Dean panted heavily against the wall. He sank halfway to the floor, his legs no longer having the strength to support him. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured. He didn't want John to get even angrier. Dean was certain that he was the only thing stopping John from rearranging Casey's face.

 

Casey remained immobile as John tossed Dean the keys to the Impala, his eyes apologetic when Dean left the bathroom.

 

“I'm going to have a little talk with Scott before we leave.” John left no room for argument. “Go start the car. I'll be out in a minute.”

 

Dean didn't say a word. He just did what he was told like he always did. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that something really bad was going to happen. Whether it was to him or Casey remained to be seen.

 

John was silent through the drive back to the motel, his eyes were dark and stormy, and his lips were pressed into a hard line. Dean was too scared to break the silence. He didn't even know what he could possibly say to explain himself.

 

Finally, after putting Baby in park in front of their room door, John spoke. “Dean, did Casey force himself on you back there? I need you to be honest with me, son.”

 

Dean's brain short circuited for a second. His dad thought that Casey tried to… He didn't even want to try to finish that thought. He could have lied, but Dean wasn't going to throw his new friend under the bus. Especially not with something as horrible as _that_.

 

“What? No!” Dean whipped his head to the right to stare incredulously at John. The fact that his father's brain automatically went to the worst possible scenario worried him.

 

John met Dean's eyes with open disgust. “So you let that faggot shove his hand down your pants?” The complete hatred behind the slur made Dean flinch.

 

“... Yeah. I let him do it.” Dean's hands gripped Baby's steering wheel for dear life, just to have something to anchor him. He had no idea what John was going to do, but it couldn't be anything good.

 

Out of all the things John Winchester could have done after finding out that his oldest son liked boys, a face full of holy water was the very last thing that Dean had expected.

 

“Dad, what the fuck?!” He sputtered, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt.

 

The mutter of _Christo_ under his father's breath was a bit of a last straw for Dean. He turned his whole body in the driver's seat, glare set in full deadly force. “Are you _serious_ right now? I'm not possessed!”

 

John returned the glare in earnest. He wasn't intimidated by a teenage boy. “My son isn't some fairy who lets other boys touch his dick.”

 

Whatever buzz Dean had left over from the bar evaporated. His shoulders slumped. Great. His dad hated him now. He was weak. Girly. Not strong enough to protect Sammy. Without another word, he pulled the keys from the Impala's ignition, then tossed them in John's lap. He couldn't face him after this. He wasn't entirely sure he could face him ever again.

 

“Dean-” John began, his tone was gentler now.

 

Dean cut him off. “Just don't. It's never going to happen again.”

 

For the next few years, even after Sammy had left for Stanford, Dean kept his word. He buried any desire he felt for other men so deep that it hardly came to him in his dreams anymore. It was a one time thing. His curiosity had been sated. There was no need to dig it all back up.

 

The repressed feelings tried to rear their ugly head with the appearance of Castiel. His soul deep stares with his endlessly blue eyes made Dean weak in the knees. Thankfully, or regretfully, he didn't have to explore that further, because the more time Cas spent time with the Winchester brothers, the more his attention turned to Sammy. In fact, he wasn't surprised when he walked in one night to the awkward nerd of a guardian angel shoving his tongue down Sam's throat. He could have lived without that image, but hey. If Sammy was happy, he was too.

 

Sometimes Dean wished he could be more like his baby brother. Sam was unapologetic about who he was and who he liked. He was far more open about his sexuality than Dean ever could be. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. Sammy was a smug enough bitch already. He didn't need to inflate that giant head any more.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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